Orange Sky
by caremikaelson
Summary: One month. That's all the time that Stefan Salvatore has to break his older brother out of prison. One month before they strapped him to an electric chair for a crime he did not commit. Breaking out of a prison isn't impossible. At least, not if you designed the place. [Based off of 'Prison Break' / Steroline, Delena, & others]
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Well I had a dream_  
_I stood beneath an orange sky _  
_Yes I had a dream _  
_I stood beneath an orange sky _  
_With my brother standing by _  
_With my brother standing by _  
_I said, "Brother, you know you know _  
_It's a long road we've been walking on _  
_Brother, you know it is you know it is _  
_Such a long road we've been walking on."_

* * *

Fight through the pain. Those were always the first words that came to mind before he walked through the door.

The buzzing noise was something his ears had adapted to. He would even like to say that the pain was something he adapted to as well, but it still hurt. The needle that painted the ink into his skin still brought him pain, but he suffered through it willingly. There was nothing else he could do but just suffer through it. Time was running short, and he needed to stay on schedule. Everything else was set, and this was the last piece of the puzzle. Tomorrow, everything could be set into motion.

The buzzing stopped and silence overtook the room. The blonde male – Stefan Salvatore – took in the newest addition to the pattern inked into his skin, scrutinizing every detail. He had been very specific about what he wanted, and he made sure he hadn't hired an amateur tattoo artist for this job. He wasn't the kind of person you'd expect to have a tattoo. Most of the time, you would find him wearing a suit. His line of work expected that kind of appearance.

The lady painting his skin, however, was the kind of person society would expect to be littered with tattoos. Odds are, he had more ink on his body than she did.

She broke the silence first. "Wow," she breathed, looking at the completed tattoo before her. It might have been his masterpiece, but she was the one who brought it to life. "Can I just—Can I take a picture of it? I mean—_wow_."

"No," his voice broke through. He hadn't spoken since he gave her the information for the last piece of the puzzle. "I can't let you do that." He knew she meant well, but anyone else having photographs of it besides him wasn't something he was willing to risk. The prison would already get them, and he didn't need one other person having them. Stefan reached for the shirt that had been discarded when he walked through the door, his arms sliding through the sleeves and immediately buttoning up the shirt to cover it up.

"Most guys take a couple of years to get all the ink you just got in a couple of months," she stated, appearing to have given up on her photo opportunity.

"I don't have that long." He handed the woman the money he owed her before exiting out the door. The tattoo artist Wendy had come to realize that Stefan was a man of few words. At least, he was to her. He didn't explain why he was here for the tattoo. He sure didn't look like the type, but who was she to question what he wanted?

Stefan was in his car as swiftly as possible, driving through the streets of Chicago until he reached his apartment. He worked as a structural engineer, and it made good money. What's the use of money though when most of the people you care about are gone, or on their way out?

Taking long strides across his apartment, Stefan stops in front of the wall that he had spent months standing in front of and planning. Newspaper articles and miscellaneous papers were taped to the wall. Important facts were circled in red. It was all of his research; everything he needed to know. After taking one swift look at it, his hands touched the wall as he ripped down every single piece. Everything was going straight into the shredder. He couldn't leave any evidence behind, as they'd likely be here in just over a month if everything went according to plan. The first place they'd check would be his apartment.

After getting rid of the paper evidence, he pulled his hard drive out of his computer. He held it in his hand for a moment before walking towards the nearby window. He opened it, took one brief look at the technology in his hand, before he tossed out of the window. Below his apartment building was the Chicago River, and he imagined by time anyone potentially found that hard drive, it'd be long dead.

He turned, scanning his room for anything that could a potential clue. Tomorrow was the big day, and nothing was going to screw it up.

* * *

_Bang._

Screams erupted as he brought the gun down. He had no intention of killing anyone, but if he wanted to cause a scene, he needed to pretend he meant business. Pieces from the ceiling fell around him as he pointed the barrel at the woman hiding behind her desk.

"Open the vault," he stated, painting a look of malice across his face.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't have the authority—"

"Then find someone who does." He knew she had already pressed the button. He had been busy tying up the other hostages, and he knew the woman and hit the red button that would mean the police were on their way. Right now, it was just a waiting game. He had hoped the Chicago police would be faster than this.

The woman slowly moved as if she was going to go find someone, but the sirens were coming. He wasn't a good enough actor to pretend he was disappointed in this. It's what he wanted. Everyone just mistook him for a crazed man, pleased by his actions.

"Police! Turn around and put down your weapon!"

He turned around slowly, raising the one hand holding the gun. He reached into his suit coat and pulled out the other gun hiding inside. He held them both for the CPD to see for a brief moment before tossing them to the ground. The men in blue came rushing forward, aggressively pulling his hands behind him and cuffing him.

They were relieved that he was coming easily. For once, the bank robber wasn't putting up a fight. Stefan took a moment to wonder how they didn't think anything was strange about his behavior, but he wasn't going to point it out to them. This is how he planned on it ending.

* * *

"Do I understand this correctly? Your plea is guilty?" the judge looked at him skeptically. Stefan Salvatore sat in his seat, looking almost relaxed. He was dressed in one of his suits, looking more like an attorney than someone who was being charged with bank robbery.

"No—"

"Yes, your honor," Stefan broke through, his eyes glancing over at the voice who tried to say no. It was the voice of Elena Gilbert. He couldn't tell you how long he had known her at this point. Elena was his brother's ex-girlfriend and a long time close friend. She also happened to be an attorney, and after the news of Stefan's arrest had reached her ears, she had immediately come to his defense.

She turned to face him, bending down and making sure her voice was quiet. "_What are you doing?_" She might have been whispering, but the tone in her voice was urgent.

"I'm accepting responsibility for my crime." His words were only answered with a bewildered expression.

"Defendant and counsel, please approach the bench."

Stefan stood up, and the two walked over to stand in front of the judge together. She wasted no time delivering her news.

"I'm quite surprised at your plea of no contest, Mr. Savlatore. This is rare when it comes to armed robbery. But, what's done is done, and it's on to your sentence." The woman paused, looking at the man across from her. "Given your lack of prior criminal conduct, probation was the first to come to mind, but given the fact you discharged a deadly weapon during your crime suggests malice to me. For that reason, I find it incumbent that you see the inside of a prison cell."

He kept his face blank, but he inwardly checked off the next phase of his plan as complete.

"The closest level one facility would be Fox River—"

"Level one?" Elena finally protested. For some reason, Stefan seemed dead set on what he was doing. She could guess what he was doing. He was trying to get closer to Damon. Elena had known him since they were children, and this wasn't like him. There wasn't an evil bone in his body.

"I'd advise you not to interrupt me, counsel," the judge replied sternly. Elena let out a sigh, but she didn't say a word in response to the judge. She didn't want to make it worse. "As I was saying, the closest facility is Fox River Penitentiary, and you'll be sentenced at five years. In half that time, you'll be eligible for parole. Court dismissed."

People began to shuffle around as some exited and others entered. Stefan turned slightly to spot his nephew sitting in the courtroom. His face fell in that moment, unaware that his teenaged nephew had been sitting there the whole time.

"Uncle Stef?" he finally said from across the courtroom.

"I didn't want you to see this," Stefan stated ruefully before he was cuffed by the bailiff and directed towards the holding cell. Elena was naturally hot on their trail, and as soon as the cell was shut, Elena turned to face the bailiff.

"Can I have a minute with my client?"

The man nodded, giving the attorney a moment with her client before she was forced to do this. "I know you, Stefan. This isn't you, and I get it. You're just doing this to be closer to him… but look at what you're doing. He wouldn't want you to ruin your life. Five years in prison isn't worth this."

Stefan didn't say a word at first, instead choosing to take a seat. He looked at his hands before back up at her. "Thank you, Elena. Thank you for trying to help me, but I don't need your help. I don't—I don't _want_ your help."

Her eyes stared him down, willing for him to explain what was going on in his head and why he had chosen to do something so drastic that wouldn't give him positive results. Was this some kind of crazy attempt at closure? She already lost Damon to the prison walls; she didn't want to lose Stefan too.

"Time's up," a voice broke through, silencing any more discussion.

A sigh escaped her lips as she walked away, her shoulder's slumping in defeat. As she walked into the main lobby of the courthouse, her eyes were directed towards the television that was broadcasting the latest news on the Damon Salvatore case. She only caught the tail end of it, but she knew right away she didn't want to listen to it anymore. Damon Salvatore, a notorious criminal and the only man currently on death row in the state of Illinois, was all anyone wanted to talk about these days.

"Damon Salvatore, guilty of killing the Vice President's brother, is scheduled to die in just over one month's time—"

One month was all Stefan had, and while Elena didn't see that as time worthwhile to spend in a prison cell, Stefan saw otherwise. Breaking out of a prison isn't impossible – not if you designed the place.

* * *

**A/N: This is my first story being published on , as I usually stick strictly to roleplaying. I've had this idea in my head for awhile, so hopefully you will all enjoy it just as much as I have been spazzing about it for the last few days! It's based off of one of my favorite shows - Prison Break. It won't be following the show to a T, but I will be taking parts from it, along with adding my own bits.**

**I will say that this is going to be very slow burn when it comes to the romance, as developing the plot is going to be more important. There will be romance included though, but due to the nature of the story, I don't recommend it if you're only reading strictly for romance. And there will also be more ships than Steroline & Delena, but those are the heaviest ones c:**

**Read and review please! You can also contact me on Tumblr if you have any questions. My URL is the same as my penname - caremikaelson. Thanks so much :D**


	2. One

**Chapter One**

* * *

It was unnerving to Stefan to be surrounded by criminals. Granted, he was considered to be a criminal at this point. They were all in cuffs, and any potential weapon had been taken away before they had been escorted to their ride. He was on his way to Fox River Penitentiary, and he was calm about it. He knew prison wasn't a pleasant place to be, but Stefan didn't think it would be hard for him to adapt. He knew the entire layout of the building, and if he forgot something, he had a quick and easy way to find his answer.

Plus, he didn't plan on staying long.

Stefan and the others were shuffled out of the vehicle and into the building. He went through the necessary checks, saying goodbye to the belongings that were in his possession at the courthouse. Everything was deliberately placed too. He only had items on him that would do him of use later on.

As he moved through the end of the line, he approached one of the correctional officers. He didn't look all that pleasant, but Stefan guessed none of them were if they had been in this line of work for awhile.

"Name," came the barking order from the unpleasant looking man.

"Salvatore, Stefan."

The man paused at the mention of the last name. Stefan knew where the pause came from, but if he wanted to say something about it, he held it back. Salvatore meant something in this prison, and it wasn't like it was as common of a last name as 'Smith.' At the same time, the C.O. couldn't automatically assume anything. "Tell me, _Salvatore_," he continued, pausing after he put emphasis on the name he had come to know so well. "Are you a religious man?"

"I can't say I am."

"Good thing. The Ten Commandments? Don't mean anything around here. We've only got two in here. The first? You've got nothing coming."

"And what's the second, then?"

"See commandment number one."

Stefan couldn't help but give the man a smile as he bit back a laugh. Trying to lay down the law from the get go. "Whatever you say, Boss."

The C.O. - who had yet to introduce himself, but Stefan noted that his name tag had 'Captain Fell' etched into the metal – gave him a hard stare before speaking again. "Are you being a smart ass?"

"Not at all, Boss. I'm just going to fly low and under the radar. I'll do my time and get out."

"Flying under the radar doesn't exist in my house."

Stefan tilted his head to the side, examining the man in front of him. He guessed he shouldn't underestimate anyone at this point. "Good to know," he stated simply before moving along the line.

After that, the line moved quickly, and Stefan found himself being escorted to his cell. This was the only part he was nervous about. Sure, everything was deliberately planned when it came to this, and Stefan was all about the details. Unfortunately, there were a couple parts in the plan that the younger Salvatore had no control over. They weren't something he could figure out until he got here. And one of them?

His cell mate.

"Open on 40!" he heard the correctional officer yell. There was a loud buzzing noise as the cell he stood in front of opened. There were two levels in general population, otherwise known as 'gen pop', and his was on the second level. The C.O. standing next to him motioned for him to exit before telling another guard to close the door. "Welcome home, convict." Well, wasn't he charming.

Some people had a cell to their own, but he guessed it didn't last long. The man in the cell continued to read as Stefan took in his surroundings. His cellmate didn't look too bad, but you couldn't take appearances as the whole truth in a place like this. He had naturally already claimed the top bunk, but Stefan really didn't care. The cell was small, so outside of the bunks, all that was left was a little area for storage and a toilet. His eyes stopped on the toilet for a moment, taking in something he had studied on the blueprints for so long.

"Have a fetish for the can?"

He must have been staring for too long, because his cell mate had spoken up finally. His eyes moved over to him, before shaking his head. He didn't say anything in response to the toilet, but instead skipped straight to the introduction. "I'm Stefan." He figured he'd drop the last name for now

"Kol Mikaelson." He had a book in his hand, and he casually flipped to the next page of his book. But while he was all casual, Stefan's mind was suddenly racing.

_Mikaelson._ That was a name he had studied well in his research, but that wasn't the Mikaelson he had been hoping to run into. He had every intention of tracking down a Klaus, though. He didn't ask him if there was any relation, but he wanted to. It was too soon to jump the gun, and for all he knew, the two of them weren't related. Something that tipped the scale into the related side was the accent. The Mikaelsons were British, and so seemed to be the man in front of him.

They sat in silence for a little while after their initial exchange, but it wasn't long until his thoughts were interrupted by the loud voice of the C.O. he had met earlier, Captain Fell.

"Alright, ladies! Let's get moving. Yard time!"

There was the loud buzzing of a cell opening again, but this time, all of the cells opened. The two of them filled out with some of the other men, and after walking a few feet, there was a commotion on the level beneath them. Stefan turned, spotting a man now lying on the floor. Blood was spilling out of his stomach faster than he could hold it in. A shank was stuck inside of him, and the correctional officers were now bringing the other convict to the ground. Stefan's eyes widened, realizing that he hadn't even been in his cell for an hour before he was going to watch a man bleed out in front of him.

Suddenly, Kol was leaning closer to him. "Welcome to Prisneyland, Fish."

* * *

"What's wrong with you?"

That was the million dollar question though, wasn't it? Everyone wanted to know what was wrong with him. But if you asked DJ Salvatore, it was more like what _wasn't_ wrong with him anymore. He was your typical fourteen year old boy, though, and he wasn't going to tell his mother what she wanted to know.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me." It was a stone cold lie, and DJ's thoughts had been consumed by the same thing for the last day or so. He already lost his father to Fox River when he decided to kill someone, and now his uncle was lost to the same place. It seemed like he was almost jinxed. Any important male figure was doomed to leave him for jail.

"Oh, really? Then why did you have to be escorted home by the police tonight for selling marijuana? And why did your teacher call me about your sudden failing grades? He said he sent home a test and wanted me to sign it to know I saw it – which, I didn't." His mother, Rose, let out a sigh. She always looked stressed lately, and he knew it was partly his fault. "This is about your father, isn't it? Maybe it's time we went and saw him."

"Father? I don't have one of those." The words were more venomous than he truly felt, but DJ always thought he needed to be angry. It made his life easier to pretend to be betrayed. It was the worst when everything first went down; everyone at school had looked at him with either pity or fear back then.

Rose scoffed at the words. "I promise you, DJ. It wasn't some immaculate conception."

The fourteen year old looked down at his hands, not wanting to say anything at first. It wasn't like it had always been like this. He could remember clearly a time when he saw his father whenever he could. DJ had thought the world of him, and he always thought that he loved him. Apparently it wasn't enough, otherwise his dad wouldn't have somehow wound up in jail. DJ never knew the specifics of his father's downward spiral; all he knew was that his father was on death row for killing the Vice President's brother.

It didn't help that the one man he thought he could count on to not end up that way was now in prison too.

"Are you done?" he finally questioned. He appreciated everything his mother did for him, but he was still your average teenager. He hit the wall when it came to these kinds of conversations, and his uncle's arrest was too fresh in his memory to handle this. Plus, he now had his own problems to deal with. People were going to start thinking that handcuffs ran in the family.

His mother gave him the look. It was the look that said she would give it up for now, but she wasn't giving up all together. He could tell she was still on the idea of visiting dear 'ol dad.

She didn't say anything though, so DJ took that as his quick exit to leave.

* * *

Yard time wasn't something he was particularly looking forward to. It did give Stefan the opportunity to get some of his business done, but it didn't mean that he was particularly thrilled at the idea of being so close to so many criminals – so many people that would be willing to gut him if he looked at them the wrong way.

He was, however, looking forward to possibly seeing his brother.

Stefan was surprised that Kol hadn't taken off, but he guessed that the man was just as interested in finding out about his new cellmate as Stefan was. Fish had become Stefan's new nickname, and from what he could tell, all the newest additions to their home of thugs, thieves, and murderers were called that.

"So—what did you do to get in here?" Stefan finally asked.

"Robbery. I needed some money, and I needed it quick, but I was cut off by the bastards I call my family." He sounded a little bitter about it, but Stefan didn't plan on pushing the matter. He did catch a look that Kol sent across the yard to another person, though. He turned to see Stefan watching him, so instead of giving him the opportunity to ask anything about the look, Kol continued on. "I needed to buy a ring for my girl."

Stefan cocked an eyebrow up. "Did it all for love? Did you at least get a chance to ask her?"

Kol shook his head. "Nah. Not yet, anyway. I'll fix it though. Soon. I'll ask her soon."

His cellmate's walk started to slow, so Stefan slowed his walk to match it. Someone was coming up to them.

"Hey man," the new inmate greeted, taking a second to look at Stefan. "Who's the new Fish?"

"My new celly. This is Stefan. Stefan, meet Tyler Lockwood. He's the local pharmacy around here."

Stefan turned to see to look over at the boy across from him. He wouldn't be the first person that Stefan would expect to be the one to get you the drugs you needed, but he figured he needed to stop assuming things when it came to the men in this prison. The two exchanged some quick pleasantries, but Stefan kept that in mind. He might need some pharmaceuticals later on.

Stefan turned to look across the yard as the two boys talked. The person that Kol had been looking at earlier caught his attention. He was sitting and playing cards with two other people, but they weren't the only people in the area. He had a couple others standing around him – acting almost as if they were body guards. He was the only Mikaelson that Stefan had expected to run into. Klaus Mikaelson's arrest had been very public. When a big time criminal was arrested, it was always the talk of the town. If his office had a water cooler, it probably would have been the topic of the conversation the day after.

Klaus wasn't someone to be trifled with, but Stefan had no choice. He would provide something that their escape plan desperately needed.

Transportation.

He didn't want to bring it up right then and there, but at least he had a face to look for.

Tomorrow. He'd make sure he would talk to him tomorrow.

Stefan then turned around, seeing Kol still talking to Tyler. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed.

"I'm looking for someone. A guy named Damon Salvatore. Do either of you know where I could find him?" He was greeted with silence at first, but he knew they both heard his question. He also guessed that every single person in this prison knew who Damon Salvatore was.

"Damon? Why are you looking for him?" Kol finally piped up. Stefan didn't answer right away. Kol hadn't answered his question about where he might be, so Stefan didn't really feel like answering Kol's question just yet. "I mean, the man killed the brother of the Vice President. He's locked up real tight, especially since he's getting that chair in a month. Nobody in this prison is more dangerous than him right about now. He's got nothing to lose."

Stefan mulled over Kol's words before speaking again. "Is there any way I could get to him?"

Tyler looked curious over the conversation, but Kol decided it was best if they kept walking. He didn't know how the other inmates would take his new cellmate asking questions about the man on death row, so Kol wanted to figure out what was going on in his head first.

"Walk with me."

Stefan turned on his heel, following Kol across the yard. They reached the fence, and he pointed across the way.

There he was. It wasn't far, but he was still secluded. They'd probably be able to talk if Damon was standing on the side of the fence that was closer to the yard. It seemed like Damon was given yard time too, but it wasn't out in the green, grassy area with the rest of the community.

"The only way he gets out of the nice little boxes they create for him is for PI and chapel."

"PI?" Stefan questioned. He knew what it was, but he was playing along.

"Prison Industry. It's one of the jobs around here. Nineteen cents an hour. It isn't much, but it's one of the better jobs around here. It's a lot of construction. Don't get too excited though, Fish. You're not gonna get in on PI." He stated it matter of factly, and if you listened in close enough, you'd hear the slight bitter tone that seeped into his voice at the end.

"Why's that?" he probed.

"Because Klaus runs it, and he doesn't let anyone in on it outside of his circle."

So that was the reason for the bitter. If Stefan's suspicious were right and the two were brothers, it seemed like Kol wasn't even in his 'circle.'

"Why do you want to see Salvatore so bad, anyway?"

Stefan paused, a small smile crossing his lips. "Because he's my brother."

* * *

On his way inside, Stefan was stopped by one of the correctional officers. "Salvatore! It's time for your appointment with the Doc."

Right on schedule.

He said his goodbye to Kol before he was lead towards the infirmary. He took in every bit of it that he could as he walked through the hallways and into the room he had poured over for months. He especially made sure to spot a certain floor vent that was would be one of their stops on their escape plan. This room would be a very important stop, and he had to do whatever he could to ensure his presence in this room as much as possible over the next few months.

That's when he decided it would be a nice time to become a diabetic.

Granted, you can't just decide to _become_ diabetic. That wasn't going to stop him, though. He had plans, and he was glad he already met the local pharmacy to help him with those plans later on. For now, he just had to hand over an arm to stick a needle in.

He sat in the silent room for the time being with the silence only being interrupted by the opening of the door. He was greeted by the face of a much prettier blonde than he had expected. Then again, he supposed he really didn't know what he had been expecting when it came to his future doctor. He supposed it would make everything a lot easier. He had always planned on playing very nice; being charming, almost. It wouldn't be painful to act charming to a pretty girl, that was for sure.

She didn't say much, walking over to him with her supplies as he rolled up his sleeve. She slowly took in the look of his arm and the tattoos that covered it. "That looks fresh," she finally spoke. "But I guess that since you're a diabetic, you don't mind the needles."

He ignored the comment about his tattoos, skipping straight to introductions. "I'm Stefan, by the way."

"I'm aware. I read your report before you got here."

Stiff. He couldn't tell if she was like that naturally, or if she was doing it because he was a convict.

"And who are you?"

"Dr. Forbes will do just fine." As she said that, the needle was inserted into his skin, giving him the shot she thought he needed as a diabetic.

"Huh. Forbes. Any relation to our governor? I mean, I'd be surprised, because you wouldn't think you'd find any child of Frontier Justice Bill working at a prison."

The blonde tucked a curl behind her ear as she grabbed his file, making some medical note inside, before shutting it and looking up at him once more. "Well, my father and I don't always see eye to eye. I believe in being a part of the solution instead of the problem."

"So… how do we do this, exactly? Do you give me a few weeks supply at a time?" He already knew what the answer to that would be, but he was trying to play dumb.

"_Hah_." The doctor seemed amused at his suggestion, almost as if she didn't believe that was something he would even ask in the first place. "Now, Mr. Salvatore. We both know you went to Loyola and know you're smart enough to know the answer to that question."

Stefan raised an eyebrow curiously at her. "You've been checking up on me?"

"I read your file. I like to get to know my patients."

"What if I said I like to get to know my doctors? I don't even know your first name yet." While he was playing the charm, he truly was interested. He'd like to put a name to the pretty face outside of the formal Dr. Forbes.

She didn't respond to him right away, but he could tell by the look on her face that she was considering it. "Caroline. My name's Caroline."

"Like the song?"

Caroline cracked a small smile. "I wasn't named after it, but yeah—like the song." She paused, and she looked as if she were debating saying something else. She didn't make a habit to get to know her patients on too much of a personal level. She liked to know facts about them that would help her with their medical care. She never pushed too far on a personal level, but this was the first inmate that she could talk to about academics.

"I went to North Western. I graduated a year after you did," she finally decided to add. The two colleges weren't far from each other, and students who went to those schools often crossed paths.

"Really? Huh. Maybe we might have met before—drunk at some random bar."

"I would have remembered."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Nope." She cracked a smile again, and she started moving towards her desk to set his file down.

She made a motion towards the guard right outside of the door, informing him that the two of them were done. The C.O. came inside the room, ready to escort Stefan back to his cell. "So I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other then."

"I guess so. Stay out of trouble." She wasn't sure why the last sentence rolled off her tongue, but she knew a guy like him could be easily eaten alive in a place like this.

Before he could say anything else, the guard was tugging on his arm, signaling that his time in the infirmary was over.

* * *

It wasn't long before Stefan was called out of his cell again. This time, however, it was because he had a visitor.

Stefan wasn't surprised to be face to face with Elena. He knew she wouldn't take long to come and visit him. She immediately threw her arms around him for a hug, but it was short lived. The correctional officer wasted no time to remind them of the hands off rule.

"How are you doing?" she finally asked. "And tell me the truth."

"I'm fine," Stefan insists calmly, knowing she's going to freak out enough as it is without him saying or doing anything to add fuel to the fire.

"Have you seen him yet?"

He didn't need to clarify to know who she meant by him.

"From a distance." That's just what he was doing to Elena for now. Keeping her at an arm's length of a distance.

"Look, Stefan. I get it. I know what you're trying to do. It's not the luck of the draw that you wound up in here with Damon. Don't forget that I know you—_both_ of you. The two of you have the most dysfunctional idea of love that I've ever seen," she scoffed. He kept his eyes looking down at his hands, because he knew it was hard to lie to her about that. She had known them since they were young, and she dated his brother. "I mean, he beat you up just to keep you off the streets, so then you do your best to get yourself in prison with him? To what…" she trailed, looking around at the guards, before leaning in close and lowering her voice. "To save him?"

Stefan refused to say anything.

"I want to know. I _deserve_ to know, Stefan. I loved him as much as you did."

That was what made Stefan talk finally.

"Loved. Yeah, past tense for you maybe, but not for me. I still love him." Stefan paused before lowering his voice as well. "I'm telling you, Elena. Someone framed him. Someone wants him dead, and there's something more going on here."

Elena shook her head sternly. "You're just desperate and grabbing at straws. Don't be in denial, Stef. You can't save him. I mean, how can you even get to him?"

"You might think I'm grabbing at straws, but I can't watch him die. I won't do that. And if you decide you want to help, then find out who's trying to bury him."

"No one is trying to bury him, Stefan. The evidence was there."

"No," he insisted. "The evidence was cooked."

"Visitation time is over."

Stefan enjoyed Elena's company, but right about now, he was glad she had to leave. He couldn't have this conversation with her anymore.

"Just… just promise me that you'll look into it."

The nod of her head was all he needed before he was escorted out.

* * *

He dialed the number that he knew by heart. After being by her side for close to fifteen years, the number was ingrained in his memory. He placed the phone on speaker phone so not only he could hear what she had to say, but so could his partner.

Connor Jordan and Galen Vaughn had been working together for years. Outside of the woman he was about to talk to, there was only one person Agent Jordan trusted, and Vaughn was one of them.

The ringing stopped, and the woman's voice picked up. "Hello?"

"It's us," he stated simply, knowing she probably already figured out as such.

"Any news?"

"It seems as if the Bishop might be a bigger problem than we were initially expecting." Agent Jordan looked out o the corner of his eye at his silent partner. Jordan had always been the more vocal – the one to take action – when it came to the two of them.

She paused, as if she were considering whether or not this was anything of interest. "Continue."

"It's to our understanding that he has a great influence with the governor, and he's also opposed to the death penalty. It's also to our understanding that Salvatore has been appealing to him for an intervention."

"Put a plug in it. Now."

He knew what she meant without having to ask further questions. Nothing could stop their plan, and it was too close to the execution for things to go south now.

"Understood."

* * *

Kol said that Damon would likely only get out to see other inmates during PI and chapel. Since he had yet to talk to Klaus, or even get the man to consider including him in Prison Industry, Stefan's only chance was chapel.

He was too far back for Damon to see him, and Stefan didn't want him to see him. Not yet, anyway. Not until chapel was over.

When everyone stood up and began preparing to leave, that's when Stefan put himself in Damon's line of sight.

His older brother froze and looked as if he were seeing a ghost. _It couldn't be possible._

They walked close enough where they could hear each other. No correctional officer had come to escort Damon back to his cell yet, so they had a moment to speak. A moment for Stefan to tell him his plan. A moment that was just long enough to give Damon a little hope that a man on death row always grasped for.

"Stefan. Why are you here? You shouldn't be here."

"I'm getting you out of here."

Damon stared at him, half tempted to let out a laugh. There wasn't any way to get out of here unless you reached the end of your time or were shanked half way through.

"That's impossible," he argued.

"Not if you designed the place, it isn't."

That was when Damon felt the rough pull on his arm. "Salvatore, let's get moving."

"I'll see you soon," Stefan insisted, moving alongside of the other inmates going back towards general population.

He'd see him, alright. He wasn't going to let anything get in the way of his plan.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited! A couple of the reviews actually made me laugh, and I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story! It's been a whole lot of fun to write and plan out these characters in this universe.**

**This chapter was longer than the Prologue, and I'm going to take a wild guess that my chapters will be on the longer side was we go along since there will be a lot of plot to get through. Please let me know if I'm ever moving past something too fast, or if you need something clarified in the plot! I do have a beta, but both of us have watched Prison Break, so we kind of already have a feel for what's going on anyway.**

**There are, however, some things that aren't being explained for a reason c:**

**Please read and review c: I really appreciate the feedback, so if you could take a couple minutes to review, I'd absolutely love it. Those are what keep me moving to go faster and to stay focused on writing.**

**If you want to contact me about anything, you can find me on Tumblr with the same name as my name - caremikaelson.**

**Thanks again!**


	3. Two

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"That's strange."

Those words were certainly not music to Stefan Salvatore's ears.

Caroline looked puzzled as she stared down at the paperwork in her hands. It was in the folder that had his name written across it. It was the folder that she had curiously looked through when she was wondering what kind of person would graduate from Loyola with top honors, only to end up in prison for robbing a bank.

"Well, I always like to test a patient's blood when they say they're diabetic. Standard procedure so I know that they're truthfully diabetic. Your test results came back negative."

He knew this was coming sooner or later. He knew he was going to have to work quickly. He painted a look of similar puzzlement across his face. "What? That's really strange."

The door opened at that moment, revealing one of the other nurses. "Caroline, we're backed up out here."

The blonde shut the folder, nodding in understanding, as the nurse left. "Next time you're here, I'm going to run a quick test, just to make sure you need these shots. It won't take too long, and then we'll know if you've been misdiagnosed this entire time."

If you scanned Stefan's face, you would think he looked relieved at the idea of being misdiagnosed. You would think that he wouldn't miss those insulin shots in the slightest. Inside, however, he was thinking about finding Tyler Lockwood. Fast.

"Thanks, Doc. I appreciate that," he stated as the correctional officer grabbed him by the arm to escort him out.

It was yard time, which was certainly helpful for Stefan. He'd be able to get this squared away right away. Luckily, it wasn't hard to track him down, because Tyler was near Kol, the two of them talking with a few other inmates.

"Tyler, right?" Stefan said, getting straight down to business. "You still the local pharmacy around here?"

The man looked up at him, his eyes quickly scanning to make sure there were no guards walking nearby to overhear. It's not like they'd be happy to hear about this business.

"What do you need?"

"Pugnac."

"Come again? But in English this time."

"Insulin blocker," Stefan began, Tyler's response unphasing him. "Standard, over the counter variety will work. You could get it at any pharmacy."

Tyler's face appeared unimpressed. "Now you're just wasting my time. If you could get it over the counter, then you can get it at medical."

Here came the twist in it all. Stefan was prepared to receive an incredulous look, because what he was going to say wasn't normal. He'd rather Tyler think he was a little crazy then know the real reason why he had to keep coming back to the infirmary.

"I can't get it in medical. They're already giving me insulin shots there."

Surprisingly enough, Tyler started to laugh. Maybe he had heard stranger requests in his time at the prison. After hearing his laughter, Stefan let himself smile. He knew it made no sense unless you had the back story to it, and Stefan wasn't going to give it out.

"You're—you're crazy," Tyler responded as his laughter died down.

"Can you get it get it for me or not?"

Tyler paused, arching an eyebrow slightly as he looked over at Stefan. "Only if you tell me why you're going to medical to get insulin shots that you don't need."

He should have expected that.

Luckily, Stefan was good with thinking on his feet. He changed his expression to a smug one, before stating simply, "I like the ambiance."

Tyler didn't look convinced.

Stefan put his hand in his pocket, removing it a second later with the money in hand. "Are we in business or what?"

The local pharmacy looked it over for a moment before shaking his hand. The correctional officers were none the wiser as Tyler took the money and pocketed it. Tyler didn't say anything out loud, but Stefan knew that meant yes.

Now he just needed the pugnac – sooner rather than later.

* * *

Despite the Freedom of Information Act, it was proving to be difficult for Elena to look into Damon's case as promised.

No one seemed willing to help her. At least, not until she ran into someone who seemed to have a little more pull than she did.

She didn't even know his name, or where he came from. He preferred to keep his appearance on the down low. The only way she knew he was coming was just by the knock on her office door.

"Are you Damon Salvatore's attorney?" he questioned up on his entrance.

"No—yes. Sort of." She paused. " I'm looking into his case."

The man looked only slightly amused. "I was the prosecutor for the state at the time. I expected some last hour attempts to help him. There always are with the death row inmates." He took a moment to look around her office. He could tell just by the type of books and files she kept around that this wasn't her typical choice of cases to take. "Friend, relative, or ex-girlfriend?" he finally questioned. He wasn't being accusatory about it; he could just tell straight away that it was one of those options.

Elena tried to hide her look of surprise, but after a moment, she realized that it made sense he would guess she was one of those options.

"Ex-girlfriend."

A smile crossed his face, but it wasn't a happy smile. The smile was one she was able to read very clearly. He felt sorry for her, because he could tell she wanted so badly to be right; he could tell she wanted him to be innocent. He knew something she didn't know, which only brought on a sinking feeling in Elena's stomach.

He reached into his bag, digging out a tape.

"Here. Maybe this will help you accept things and help you move on."

He placed the video in her hand, and it felt much heavier than it truly was. It was weighed down by the knowledge it contained.

"It's a copy of a crucial piece of evidence from his trial. It was actually one of the biggest pieces of evidence in his conviction. I think you need to see it."

He didn't even need to tell her what was on the tape for her to know. It was a video – _the _video – that showed Damon killing the Vice President's brother.

* * *

"Damon, let's go. You have a visitor."

The eldest Salvatore brother sat up from his bed in solitary. He had grown accustomed to the chilly atmosphere. It was usually dark and bleary in the cement walls of his living situation. He barely had the opportunity to interact with anyone other than the correctional officers that were assigned to watch over this part of the prison. Getting out of here was a breath of fresh air. Yard time didn't even count, because he was always kept in a fenced box.

"Is this a joke, Boss?" Damon couldn't help but ask. The only person who had come to visit him consistently was Stefan, and he knew it couldn't be Stefan any longer.

Stefan's words were still ringing in his ears.

_I'm getting you out of here._

The worst thing to do to a man on death row is give him hope of a way out.

The correctional officer paused before revealing what he knew. "I think it's your boy."

DJ never came to visit. The boy may be named after him – Damon Jr – but that didn't mean he idolized his father. Not anymore, at least. Damon had come to believe he wasn't even going to see him outside of pictures before he was put to death. He believed his son hated him, but he didn't blame him. If he were his son, he would hate him too.

The officer opened up the gates, putting on all of the extra precautionary cuffs. Damon was never escorted around without all of the heavy duty gear. The officers had come to trust that he would be true to his words. It wasn't there faults he was in here, so he wasn't going to make their lives Hell like some of the other inmates tended to do.

Even in visitation, he had his own little box. While everyone else could get rid of the cuffs and sit at tables with their visitors, Damon had to talk through the iron fenced area. Where he sat down, it was made of glass so he could see the other person better.

As he approached, he could see it wasn't just DJ, but Rose was there too. She was his ex-wife, but they had divorced when DJ was young, and now she was remarried. He wasn't thrilled with how things had turned out back then, but as long as she was happy, Damon was satisfied. She at least deserved that.

Damon didn't even have a chance to say hello before Rose started.

"He was arrested."

He sank down into the chair, immediately writing this down onto the list of reasons he wasn't a good father. His child wouldn't have been arrested if he had a better role model than him.

"You _what_?"

"I figured he could use some fatherly advice for once," Rose stated, motioning to her son to sit down on the chair opposite of his father. She didn't stick around, either. As soon as DJ sat down, Rose was gone and standing towards the back of the room. She was watching like a hawk from afar.

The two stared at each other in silence, and Damon knew that he was going to have to talk first. A teenager didn't talk to his parents without force.

"What happened?"

"I was just caught selling some pot. No big deal."

No big deal. Damon remembered when he did that, and it was _no big deal_. He just needed some money to help take care of his brother back then, but look at where he wound up. Look at where the things that were _no big deal_ took him.

"It is a big deal, DJ—"

"What do you care?" the fourteen year old snapped. The look on his face was a cross between being irritated and upset. "It's not like you're around, and you're going to be gone soon anyway. So why care now?"

It felt as if weights were crushing against his chest to hear his child say that. He knew his son well enough to know he didn't mean it and that he was just lashing out at him, but it didn't make it hurt any less. DJ thought that Damon didn't know him at all, but it was far from the truth.

Stefan's words rang through his head again.

_I'm getting you out of here._

There was a possibility that he would get out of here, and that he wouldn't be gone forever from his son's life. He didn't want to tell him that, though, because not only would his hopes be up, but so would his son's.

Even if he only got out of here through the chair, he still wanted to make things up with his son.

"Of course I care. I've always cared. Maybe I haven't been the best at showing in the last couple of years—"

"Yeah, because you've been locked in a cell for being a con."

Damon's features started to harden a little slightly. "Look, kid. I get your mad at me. You have the right to be mad. But – I'm also your father. Show me some respect." Damon paused, his features starting to soften as he realized that the tough as nails method probably wasn't going to work.

"I didn't do it, DJ."

His son's face crumpled into confusion. He didn't believe him. "But then why are you in here?"

"Somebody set me up. I won't lie. I went there with the intention of doing it, but—" Damon paused, leaning in towards the glass a little and dropping the volume on his voice. "He was already dead when I got there."

DJ didn't seem to know what to do with this information.

"Visitation time is over," the correctional officer announced. Rose started weaving through the crowd to pick up her son immediately. Damon didn't expect anything less.

Before she could get there though, Damon spoke up for the last time of the visit.

"Don't give up on me, kid."

_I'm getting you out of here._

* * *

After talking to Tyler about the pugnac, Stefan realized it was time to get something else accomplished.

The transportation.

Kol looked at him strangely as he started to approach Klaus. Stefan didn't blame him, because it's not like he told him what he was about to do.

"Klaus Mikaelson, right?" Stefan said as he approached the man. He was sitting at a table, just as he had the previous day. He wore a smug look as some of his friends – or rather, body guards – started to come near Stefan.

"Who's asking?"

Stefan avoided the question, immediately bouncing into his next one. "I need you to hire me on PI."

Klaus turned his head slightly, taking in the appearance of this new convict. His smug look was still on place, but he even looked a little amused this time.

"I don't need to do anything, mate. Beat it."

Stefan didn't move. Klaus Mikaelson's muscle seemed to be itching to show him the door through a more violent fashion.

"Maybe you oughta hear what I've got to say."

"You don't have anything I need."

Stefan reached into his pocket, dropping an origami crane in front of Klaus. "I wouldn't be too sure of that," he stated with a shrug, turning on his heels to walk away. He could still hear his response though.

"Oh. My mistake. A paper bird. That was exactly what I need."

"Just remember PI, Klaus. You might find soon that I can be of more assistance than you think. Mull it over, and come find me when you're ready to chat," Stefan responded over his shoulder, making his way across the yard and back towards Kol.

"What is wrong with you, mate?" Kol began when Stefan was in hearing distance.

"You'll see soon enough."

* * *

"Elijah, you've gotten something in the mail."

He wasn't expecting anything, but he was sure it would be nothing of interest. He closed the paper he was reading, and he took hold of the golden rod envelope that his younger sister Rebekah handed him.

It had no return address.

"Curious," he muttered, breaking open the seal and dropping out the contents. Out of the envelope slid two objects; a picture and a small, paper crane.

The picture was of Trevor, and Elijah's eyes hardened immediately.

"I need to call Niklaus." He stood up swiftly, straightening out his suit, before gathering the contents and moving past a confused Rebekah. She was always the last to know. Her brothers kept her out of the loop more than they kept her in.

After shutting the door to his study, Elijah dialed the number of the prison. He asked for his brother, and while he knew it wasn't a normal time for prisoners to be taking calls, they had Captain Logan Fell whipped well. With extra cash in his bank account once a month, Logan Fell allowed Klaus Mikaelson to do almost whatever he wanted – including running Prison Industries.

"Elijah. What did I do to deserve a surprise phone call?"

"Someone found Trevor."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and he didn't have to be face to face with his brother to know his face had hardened. He could even hear it in his voice when he responded.

"Who?"

Elijah knew that would be his next response, and unfortunately, he hadn't the faintest clue.

"I'm unaware at the current moment. In the mail today, I received a picture of him and a paper bird."

His next response was a lot faster.

"A paper bird? Like origami?"

Judging by his response, Elijah guessed that Klaus knew more than he did with who might be the sender.

"Yes. Just like origami."

"I'll take care of it."

* * *

She never used VHS players anymore, so it took Elena a little while to dig the dusty item out.

It was in her storage space, and she had to blow the dust from the top before carrying it to her television. She worked slowly, her hands shaking slightly at what she knew she was about to see. She knew it would help her come to terms with things, and she almost wished she could have gotten this before Stefan had decided to do something as drastic as rob a bank.

It was connected finally, and she gently inserted the tape into the player.

Here went nothing.

If she blinked during it, she didn't realize that she had.

The black and white scene showed a car sitting idly by. She could see a figure was inside, but she didn't know who it was. Damon entered from the left side of the video frame, gun raised high and ready to go. He stopped after he reached the car, the gun going off immediately. He exited to the right of the video frame, coming back just a second later to open the passenger door and steal from the car.

He did it. He actually did it, and Elena witnessed it with her own eyes.

Elena started to shake, thinking back to her conversation with Stefan. He had been so convinced that someone was trying to frame him. Who would go to this length to frame him? It was there. How could it be any clearer?

Except Stefan still believed it was fake.

_The evidence was cooked._

Cooked, he said. She didn't know much about editing videos, so Elena couldn't say for certain if this was forged. She really wanted to believe that it was. She wanted Stefan to be right, because even if she and Damon were broken up, she didn't want to think negatively about him. It had been so long ago since they had split. She had given him a chance after she came back from college, and it hadn't worked out. He met Rose, and that was the end of it.

Although, deep down, she always hoped it wasn't the end of it. But- now he was going to die in one month because of an electric chair.

Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe Stefan was right. Maybe this was a fake.

Maybe this was worth looking into.

* * *

Stefan heard the footsteps coming. He noticed Klaus wasn't sitting in his usual spot, which only meant one thing.

He got the message and was looking for him.

The Salvatore looked up from he's spot, letting a smile grace his features. "Lovely weather we're having today, boys."

He should have known better than to be so snarky, but he didn't want Klaus to think he was someone to push over. He needed to appear as a force to be reckoned with. No doubt, Klaus had to be wondering who he was and how he figured out where Trevor was.

"Oh, yes. Beautiful day. But, of course, let's cut the pleasantries. I know why I'm here. You know why you're here. Why don't you just tell me what I need to know?"

Klaus was used to getting what he wanted, but unfortunately for him, he wasn't going to get it that easily. Stefan needed something from him before he'd even consider giving Trevor up. And truthfully, Stefan was going to do his best not to have to give him up.

"PI, Klaus. I need you to put me on PI."

"No, you need to tell me where I can find Trevor before I let my friends take out your kneecaps."

Stefan knew he was being honest about that too.

"I'll tell you were Trevor's at. Just not yet. Not until the right time comes along, and that times won't come along until after you put me on PI."

Stefan had every intention of telling him about the escape. Right now wasn't the right time. He hadn't even brought it up to Kol yet.

"I'm still having trouble understanding how you've mistaken me for the negotiation type. This is the last time I'm asking nicely. Be a good sport, and tell me where Trevor is."

The two boys caught eyes, and it was a battle between who was going to crack first. Stefan broke the silence first.

"No."

Klaus didn't appear annoyed. He was positive he could get him to crack; he had just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Klaus spoke, backing up as his muscle moved forward.

Stefan stood up immediately, bracing himself for what was to come.

"If they come after me, I'll come after you."

Klaus looked amused at the prospect. "Good luck with that."

One of his supposed friends took a swing at him, but Stefan dodged, immediately going after Klaus. His fist collided with his face, but then Stefan was tackled down to the ground. The group of body guards circled him, pulling out their own hidden weapons. He didn't know what they were officially called, but he had heard of them before.

Socks with batteries in them.

Suddenly, Stefan could feel the group of them swinging the socks at his body. There were enough of them that not a second went by that he didn't feel the sting from one of the hits. Plenty of inmates were starting to surround them as well.

It only stopped when the correctional officers intervened.

There were towers around the yard, and the officers in said towers were armed with guns for times like this. The guards on the ground were on the other side of the fence, only entering in cases of emergency. For the most part, the convicts were locked inside the gated area for yard time by themselves.

There was a shot, and it signaled that the guards had shot the gun at the ground near the situation. After two shots were fired, the prison alarm went off, and everyone in the situation dropped to the ground.

Stefan, however, was already on the ground, and he was finding it difficult to move. He opened his eyes, looking over at Klaus from across the way.

He refused to see the man see him weak. He refused to think he had already been broken.

Instead, he gave him a hard look that stated that it wasn't over yet.

* * *

The nurse gave him some painkillers, but Stefan didn't get a chance to see Caroline out of it, or even go into the infirmary room.

Later on that night, it was tier time, but Stefan had no intention of leaving his cell. Tier time was when general population could leave their cells, but they were still supposed to stay indoors. They were able to walk around the two levels of gen pop and interact. And while he was sure Klaus could come track him down, it seemed as if their spat was done.

For today, anyway.

He heard someone tap against the open cell bars, though, which let him know he had a visitor. Kol had opted to stay in the cell with Stefan, but he hopped off from his bunk to greet their visitor.

Tyler.

He wasn't here to see Kol, but instead, he was here to see Stefan.

"You got something for me?" Stefan asked, standing from the lower bunk as well.

"I still want to find out what this is for."

Tyler handed him the pugnac either way, but Stefan knew that Tyler was too curious to relent.

"I told you. The ambiance."

He turned around, immediately taking one of the pills.

The sooner it got into his system, the better.

* * *

Stefan wasn't looking forward to yard time the next day.

He was headed out with Kol, walking a little slower than normal, when Officer Fell came to grab him. He hadn't seen him since he arrived at Fox River, and Stefan didn't miss the abrasive C.O. in the slightest.

"Come here, Salvatore."

Kol's expression told Stefan that this wouldn't be a good thing, but Stefan had no choice. The bruised inmate followed the correctional officer to a shed, shoving him inside immediately and shutting the door. Stefan looked behind himself for a moment before he heard a voice.

"Hello again, mate. Long time no chat."

Before he could turn and see Klaus, his friends had him picked up and pinned down against a table. Klaus was pulling off one of his boots, the sock coming off along with it. He turned around, picking up a pair of gardening shears. It was large kind—the kind you would use to trim your hedges.

"I'm going to give you one more chance, Fish. Tell me where Trevor is, and you get to keep all ten of your toes."

Stefan's eyes widened. He struggled slightly against the grasp of the men pinning him down, but there was no way he could overpower them. There were too many of them, and he was weak from yesterday's attack.

He saw him place the open shears around one of his foot, and if the metal was shut, it would take three of his toes with it.

He swallowed hard, thinking through his options. If he gave it up just to save himself the pain, he would lose a very important piece of their escape. In fact, the escape probably wouldn't happen at all.

This was going to hurt.

"No."

"Just remember that you made the choice, Fish."

A beat later, Klaus had clamped the shears closed, and Stefan let out a scream.

* * *

**A/N: I had every intention of carrying on and writing a bit more with this chapter, but I realized this would be a fabulous cliffhanger, and that it was long enough as it is ;D**

**The next chapter will have more Steroline & Delena in it as well, and it'll have Delena's first conversation of the story.**

**Thank you so much to anyone who reviewed to the last chapter! I promise some of your questions will be answered soon enough c: I'd very much love it if you took the time to review this chapter as well! I see a good number of followers to the story, but I love reading your feedback!**

**And, of course, you can always come bug me on Tumblr if you'd like. My URL is the same as my penname - caremikaelson.**

**Thanks again c:**


	4. Three

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Klaus stepped back, dropping the garden shears down to the ground as Captain Logan Fell barreled inside the door. "What the—what did you do, Mikaelson?" Fell shouted. Klaus had told the correctional officer that he just was going to shake Stefan down. He didn't say that cutting off toes was going to be a part of it.

"I don't know what you're talking about. He stepped on some shears," Klaus stated with a shrug, his voice completely casual.

Fell scowled, not believing the story to be accurate, but he was going to have to use it as an excuse. He was going to need one when the inmate went to the infirmary. He knew Dr. Forbes wasn't the type to let something go easily.

The correctional officer looked over at the inmates responsible for holding Stefan down, quickly deciding on what was going to be the best case of action at the moment. "Here's what's going to happen. You two cons are going to walk with me to take Salvatore to the infirmary—and everyone keep the story straight. He stepped on some gardening shears." Fell paused, walking closer to Stefan. He had been listening the entire time, but he found it hard to speak when he was focused more on the pain in his foot. "Isn't that right, Salvatore?"

Stefan gave him a hard look in return, but he didn't give him the pleasure of receiving a verbal response.

The two inmates helped Stefan towards the infirmary, but he wanted nothing more than to push them away from him. He still didn't regret his decision to keep the whereabouts of Trevor hidden. He knew that it would ruin everything he had planned if he didn't convince Klaus to work with him.

He needed to be on PI, and he needed that plane.

Stefan found himself being hauled towards the infirmary by two smug convicts. They were led by Captain Fell, who appeared more concerned than he truly was. A trail of blood was left in his wake, and he tried to focus on anything other than the pain. That plan wasn't working out so easily for him. He heard his heartbeat pounding madly in his ears, and there was a thin layer of sweat over his skin from the whole ordeal. What snapped him back to reality was a voice— Dr. Forbes' voice.

He couldn't really make out what she was saying, but he could hear her give orders to the other infirmary staff members. He was lying down before he knew it, and everyone was ushered out except for the doctor and a nurse who was helping her. She was quickly pulling her hair out of her face as she looked down at him.

"Stefan, stay with me," she spoke, keeping her voice calm. "Tell me what happened."

He looked up at her, seeing genuine concern in her eyes. She was probably one of the only people in the penitentiary who actually cared about his well being. But—he couldn't tell her. It would ruin everything. He could only manage to get out six words before he stopped speaking, and she got to work.

"Don't make me lie to you."

The following morning, Stefan woke up in the infirmary. The doctor wasn't too far away from him, and it seemed like she was checking up on something. He looked towards her, and she didn't seem to notice that he was awake yet. If she did, she didn't say anything. He studied her for a moment, watching how intently she was writing. Caroline had a look of determination on her face—a look of focus. He didn't know what she was writing, but part of him wouldn't dare disturb her while she was in her element.

After he refused to tell her what she wanted to know, she hadn't pushed for it. Patching up his foot had been her priority at the moment. While he was out, she decided that she would take advantage of her time and test his blood once more to see if he truly was diabetic. Luckily for Stefan, he had gotten the drugs from Tyler in his system just in time.

Caroline had sensed his eyes on her after awhile, but she kept working until she was done. She was writing up a report of everything she had done since he had come into the infirmary the previous night. He didn't seem to have any intention of telling her who did it to him, but based on his response, she knew that Captain Fell's story wasn't true. Finally, she put down her pen and closed his file.

"How are you feeling?"

Stefan started to sit up as she addressed him. The pain in his foot wasn't as bad as it had been the last night, but there was still a dull throbbing. He wasn't looking forward to standing up and trying to gain his balance.

"It could be worse."

He watched her expression change into a frown, and he momentarily caught himself thinking that it wasn't a good look for her. She shouldn't frown. It didn't suit her.

"That's the kind of attitude that's going to get you killed in here."

Once again, he caught genuine concern in her voice. It still surprised him.

"Caroline—"

"Dr. Forbes," she corrected without missing a beat.

Stefan had to remind himself that she was firm on the doctor-patient formalities. He had to wonder if she was always this formal, or if she was only like that here.

"Dr. Forbes," he began again. "You're one of the only people in this place who actually cares about helping the people inside. It's—well, it's appreciated. But you don't have to worry about me. I'll be alright."

She looked at him the whole time he spoke, and he could tell she was holding back with whatever she wanted to say. She was treading lightly, and she knew she couldn't make a convicted criminal tell her anything he didn't want to tell her.

"Before you go, I just wanted to tell you that I tested your blood while you were out cold, and it turns out that you really do have diabetes. I'm not sure what went wrong with the last test we took, and I'm sorry if I might have gotten your hopes up."

"If I can handle losing a couple of toes, I can handle taking care of that."

He said it in a joking tone, but based on her expression, she didn't find it so funny. He was trying to lighten the mood, but the doctor was much more concerned for his safety.

"Thanks again, Doc," he finally said, starting to get down from the table. She didn't say anything on his way out, but Stefan guessed she wasn't giving up on trying to help him.

* * *

"She'll see you now."

Connor Jordan nodded his head firmly as the secretary spoke to them before motioning to his partner Galen Vaughn to enter the room with him. The room was cold—sterile. It was a room the two of them had been in plenty of times. They both walked inside, but they didn't sit. There were chairs, but neither of them took the chairs, and the lady sitting across from them at her desk didn't offer them to sit down either. They didn't believe that it was respectful with her position. She was writing something, so they didn't speak until she spoke to them first.

"I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Make it quick," the woman stated, putting down her pen after a moment.

"The bishop is taken care of," Galen informed her. The bishop was most certainly taken care of. He was also six feet under as of that morning. "But we might have someone else that could be a problem."

She didn't seem to be impressed. She gave the two of them a very impatient look.

Connor interjected after that by dropping a file on her desk. She opened it and skimmed its contents as Connor rambled off the shortened version of it. "Her name is Elena Gilbert. She's been looking into Salvatore's case, and she is in possession of a copy of the tape from his trial. She's only a real estate lawyer, but she's also Salvatore's ex-girlfriend. She might cause some trouble down the line."

He finished speaking, and the woman across from him gave it a moment before she spoke again.

"Take care of her. Make sure she doesn't find anything else, and if she does, then you know what your next step would be."

Kill her were the unspoken words, but both of the men knew what she meant.

"Understood."

* * *

He couldn't move very quickly, but luckily, Klaus and his minions were staying away from him— for now, anyway. There was plenty of time left during yard time where that could change, but Stefan couldn't afford to focus too much on that. He had to get the bolt.

The bolt he was looking for would eventually become a key part in their plan—metaphorically and literally. He needed it if he was going to get out of his cell during the night, and it was somewhere in the yard.

It wasn't something an ordinary wouldn't be able to find, but Stefan never had an ordinary mind.

He casually walked towards the bleachers. People motioned towards him and muttered to their allies, but no one said anything directly to him. He knew what they were talking about, though. They were talking about how Stefan Salvatore—the brother of the only man on death row—thought he was tougher than he truly was. They were talking about how he went head to head with Klaus and failed. They watched as his walking was uneven, and they laughed at his pain. His pain made them feel better about themselves.

If Stefan didn't know any better, he would have thought he was still in high school.

No one paid attention to what he was doing, and he preferred it that way.

He walked behind the bleachers slowly, occasionally stopping as he reached a part of the bleachers that he needed. He brought the finger tip of his middle finger to a particular spot—the spot where the wood was screwed together. He was looking for something specific. If he didn't find the right screw, it would ruin everything.

He rubbed his finger against the outside of the screw. He couldn't see what it looked like, but he could sense it just through touching it. He never knew how to explain it—he just could. He remembered what his psychiatrist said. Low latent inhibition was the term. His mind worked differently than others.

The first screw he found wasn't right. It wouldn't work as the key he needed. It wasn't wide enough around.

He moved on, repeating the process as he walked. He had said no to three different possible screws at that point. He never got frustrated, though. He knew it would be in one of these bleachers.

As he touched the fourth one, he realized that it was the one he needed. As soon as he located it, he positioned himself in a way that looked casual, but his hand was moving quickly as he tried to remove the screw from its hold. After using a coin to release it from the initial hold, it didn't take too long for Stefan to twist it right out of the spot.

"What are you doing, Fish?"

The voice cut through, and Stefan quickly ducked the screw into the sleeve of his clothes. It was Klaus, and it seemed like he wasn't going to get much of a break.

"Catching some fresh air," he replied simply. He wasn't going to give Klaus the satisfaction of knowing he was starting to get to him. Klaus started reaching into his pocket, and Stefan braced himself. Surprisingly enough, he didn't do anything that could appear as a threat. Instead, he handed him something.

A Prison Industry clearance card.

Stefan stared down at the card with a curious expression, but he didn't question it. It seemed like Klaus was letting him into P.I. after all.

"I commend you for your guts, Fish. I'll be watching you, though—and you will tell me where Trevor is."

"Of course," he lied through his teeth. He'd only do that if there was no other option.

Klaus started moving closer to him, his eyes fixated on the arm that was hiding the screw he just removed from the bleacher. The older man quickly grasped his wrist, pulling it towards him and removing the screw.

"This is a nice piece of metal. I think I'll hold onto it."

Noticing Stefan's reaction—showing that he clearly didn't want Klaus to have possession of it—only made a smirk cross the British man's face. He started to step away, just as the correctional officers started to take notice of the two of them standing a little too close.

"I'll see you later tonight for P.I., Fish."

Stefan ran a hand through his hair as he started to move in the opposite direction of where Klaus was moving. He needed it back, and he wasn't quite sure of how that was going to work yet. Now more than ever, he needed to get Klaus on his side. He needed to get him to trust him.

And Klaus wasn't the only Mikaelson brother he needed to convince to trust him. He was at a standstill with Klaus, but that didn't mean he couldn't be successful with gaining Kol's trust. He had no choice with that. Kol was his cell mate, and Stefan needed to make sure he wasn't going to nark.

He spotted the man across the yard on the phone. He had mentioned earlier that he had to call his girlfriend today—the one he had robbed a store in order to buy a ring for her. Stefan still found it curious that he had been cut off from his family and didn't seem to get along with his brother Klaus, but Stefan didn't know him well enough yet to question into it.

Stefan stopped before he got too close. It was enough to appear like he was giving him privacy, but he could still hear what Kol was saying.

"Bonnie—No, Bon. _Listen to me_. Don't let her poison your mind about me." He let out a noise of frustration as Bonnie started speaking in return. He started combating back whatever she was saying the moment she started speaking. "I'm going to get out in sixteen months, Bon. Don't give up on me. Don't let her convince you to do this." The man behind him started pestering Kol to finish up his conversation. He turned around, glaring at the man for a moment before turning around. "You're still coming to see me this weekend, right? Please, Bonnie. Don't do anything until you come talk to me."

He seemed to be fighting a losing battle with that very girl he found himself through into prison for. Maybe this would work towards his advantage.

Kol hung up the phone a little harder than he usually would, turning around and spotting Stefan. The two men started moving towards each other, Stefan looking concerned.

"That didn't look so good." He didn't think it would be a good idea to tell him that he overheard part of it.

"Understatement of the century," Kol muttered underneath his breath. "Her mother never liked me much, and now she's trying to convince me that she's getting too old to wait for me to start a family."

The two started walking across the yard, and Stefan slowly mulled over his next words in his head. He couldn't be sure if Kol was to be trusted or not, and while he was his cell mate and would have to find out sooner or later, it was better for Stefan—planning wise—if he got a glimpse of Kol's trustworthiness now, rather than later.

"Do you think it would help if you could call her more often? Talk to her?"

Kol gave him an exasperated look. "I call her every chance I can get, Fish. It's not easy when there are only certain times I can call her."

Stefan looked around for anyone nearby who could overhear them—whether it be another inmate, or a correctional officer.

"What if you could call her anytime you wanted?"

He was lying through his teeth.

"—What?" Now Kol just looked annoyed, and Stefan wouldn't be surprised if he was planning on telling him off for wasting his time. Stefan cut him off before that, however.

"You could, you know. Call her anytime you wanted. If you had the right resources. A cell phone, perhaps."

Kol's stared at him blankly, but Stefan could read the eyes well enough. He was judging him—trying to find out if he was telling the truth about the phone.

"How? There's no way you could have snuck that in past the guards."

"I have my ways. You can use it, if you want, but you obviously can't tell anyone about it. It'll get taken, and I'll get more time added to my bill."

Stefan studied Kol's reaction as he took in what Stefan said. He quickly nodded his head, and Stefan took that as a sign that he was going to keep the secret.

Of course, that meant nothing unless Stefan had hardcore proof.

* * *

"Come on, Damon. You've got a visitor."

He had rarely had visitors since he had been incarcerated—at least, he rarely had them outside of Stefan—so he couldn't tell you who it would be. His son's visit had surprised him, but Damon doubted DJ was back so quickly, especially seeing as how _wonderful_ their last visit had gone.

The door opened to reveal one of the usual correctional officers that stood outside of his door. It wasn't like there was any way out of the room either; the door was very solid, and it just had a small, rectangular shaped window that he could see through and an area where his meals could slide through. Even with brute strength, there wasn't any way he could get out of there.

Even so, Damon had long ago just come to grips with his inevitable death.

Someone wanted him dead, and they'd get their wish. He only wished his brother hadn't been stupid enough to get himself thrown into prison for a lost cause.

_I'm getting you out of here._

The words were still ingrained in his mind. He couldn't get them out.

The officer put the cuffs on him and escorted him towards the visitation room. The cuffs were really a formality anymore. As strange as it might sound to an outsider, but they had grown to trust that Damon wasn't going to attack them.

It was strange that the man on death row was one of the more trustworthy inmates.

They started taking him towards the visitation room, but they bypassed where he would normally enter. He usually was placed in his little fenced in box, but they were leading him to a separate room.

"Boss, where are we going?"

"A private conference room. It's your attorney."

The strange part of this visit was that he didn't have an attorney.

"What? I don't—"

"She says she's your attorney," the officer insisted again as he opened the door to reveal who it was.

"Elena?" Damon didn't even bother masking his surprise. They had once been together, but naturally, it didn't work. Part of him never thought it would last as long as it did. It was only a matter of time before she moved on.

"You can uncuff him," she told the guard, before even speaking to Damon. "I'm not worried."

He felt the cuffs free his wrists, and the guard directed him to a seat before exiting the room. It was then that Elena finally addressed him.

"Hey—how are you?"

"What are you doing here?" he questioned in return. He'd rather skip through the formalities and find out why she was here instead.

"Right down to the point then, I guess." Naturally. She knew him well enough to know he didn't like to dance around the subject. "I'm looking into your case."

"Did Stefan put you up to this? Did he tell you what he's up to?" Despite being alone, Damon lowered his voice at the end of that out of habit, because there were plenty of people around here wearing blue that would start a panic if they overheard talk of inmates trying to escape.

"He didn't have to. I visited him on my own and figured it out. He asked me to look into the case, but he couldn't make me do it, Damon. I did it on my own. Just—tell me. Did you do it?"

Elena always prided herself on being able to tell when Damon was lying to her.

"_No_. I didn't do it."

She studied his expression, and he stared right back at her as she did it.

He was telling the truth.

"Why do people think you did it, Damon? What happened that night?"

She wasn't going to tell him she saw the video. Not yet, anyway.

"Probably because I went there with the intentions of doing it."

If it weren't for the private conference rooms that were only used strictly for client-attorney visits, Damon wouldn't have admitted that. Elena stared back at him in surprise before Damon kept going on.

"But I didn't. He was already dead when I got there."

"Why? Why would you go there to kill the Vice President's brother, Damon?" Elena challenged back. She found it difficult to think he would go there to kill him without having some sort of reason behind it.

"I owed someone money, and they promised my debt would be paid if I did it."

The pieces were already starting to come together. She knew what that money was for. She had been around in his life more often when he had borrowed it. "I told you that you shouldn't have borrowed that money. There was other ways of handling it—"

"But this was the best way—the fastest way. I did it for Stefan," Damon insisted.

Elena knew she needed to keep on track. She had to work fast if she wanted to push back Damon's execution. Maybe she could do it before Stefan went through with whatever he had planned.

"Damon—I need you to tell me who you borrowed the money from." She thought that would be a good place to start. If he owed a debt to them, then they were connected to everything.

"This guy named Crab Simmons."

"I'll find him," Elena stated, standing up quickly from her chair, and Damon could already hear the determination in her voice. He knew she wasn't going to let it go. Part of him wanted to see if this was possible, but part of him didn't want her to waste her time.

"It's done, Elena. You don't have to do this—"

"I don't have to, but I want to. I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

* * *

"Show it to me," Kol insisted again.

They were back in their cell, and Stefan was listening to Kol ask him about the cell phone again. He wanted to see it for proof, and Stefan was waiting for the right moment.

"Not yet. The guards are going to be doing cell checks soon. We have to wait."

That's when Captain Fell came by, yelling down to the person controlling the cells. "Open on 40!"

Both of them stood up as he walked into the cell, a smug look on his face. Kol knew what that face meant after being here for so long. He knew that the guard had found something out, and he was looking forward to catching them with it. Kol guessed that someone found out what Stefan was hiding.

"Hand it over, Mikaelson."

Kol's expression crumpled into confusion as the guard rounded on him instead of his cell mate. "Uh—excuse me? What exactly am I supposed to be handing over?"

"The phone. Give it to me."

Most people would start to panic at this moment, due to knowing there was a phone hidden in the cell somewhere. But Kol? Nah. Kol was a Mikaelson, and he prided himself on not being that easy to read.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Boss. I don't have a phone. I'm pretty sure you would have confiscated it when I got locked up."

"Don't lie to me. A little bird told me you had one."

Kol watched as Captain Fell's eyes dodged from Kol to Stefan.

He felt the rage bubbling up inside of him. Stefan had told him that he had one—only to frame it on him. What was he playing at? Luckily, he managed to keep his expression even still.

"Your little bird was misinformed. I don't have one."

"If I find out you're lying to me, I'm gonna throw you in the shu. You know that right?"

The shu—or solitary—wasn't some place Kol wanted to go, but if he could get Fell out of there, then he could at least find out what Stefan was playing at.

"I understand, Boss, but I don't have a cell phone."

Fell looked over at Stefan this time, but he didn't say anything. He turned around to exit the cell.

"Close on 40!"

The cell shut with a loud bang, and the two cell mates were left alone.

"What the hell, Fish?"

Kol wasn't going to bother holding back his anger this time. He wasn't getting very far on that before Stefan let a smile cross his face.

"Oh, I get it," Kol began. "You're just a head case."

"Nah. I just needed to see if you could be trusted."

That seemed to only enrage Kol more.

"So you almost get me locked in the shu, which would lose my yard time and my visit with Bonnie this weekend, to see if I could be _trusted?_"

"Tell me, Kol. Would you like to be out of here and to be able to see Bonnie before your 16 months are over?"

The bomb had been dropped, and Stefan waited calmly for Kol's reaction. Of course—it wasn't one he was expecting.

Kol was laughing.

"Wow. You _are_ a head case. Certifiably insane. Are you sure you don't belong in the Psych Ward? You're not seriously talking about what I think you're talking about?"

"Yes—I am," Stefan stated, keeping a serious look on his face in order to help convince Kol that he did mean business. "I'm getting my brother out of here. Everything starts in our cell."

Kol was about to respond, but a guard's voice from down below cut the conversation short.

"Alright, ladies—It's time for PI!"

"That's me." Stefan pulled out his Prison Industry card that Klaus gave him earlier, flashing it over at Kol. "Think about it."

* * *

Damon kept watching his brother throughout the entire time they were working in PI. He waited for a moment to talk to him, because he didn't want to bring up what was on his mind when others were around. It didn't help that Klaus had been watching them, and it took all of Damon not to pummel him into a wall after hearing Klaus and his cronies chortling about what they had done to Stefan.

He hadn't heard about it until now due to being separated from everyone, and while Damon normally didn't cause any trouble while at Fox River, he was pretty tempted to start some now.

But that was the last thing he should be doing considering what Stefan and Elena were both trying to do.

The Prison Industry workers wore a certain uniform while working, so when it was time for the them to change back into their normal wear, that was when Damon was finally able to catch up with his little brother.

Stefan started changing into another shirt, and Damon was momentarily side tracked by all the ink his brother was now sporting.

That wasn't like him. Stefan wouldn't cover his entire torso and arms with ink.

"When?" He questioned simply, in order not to draw too much attention to them.

"Soon."

"Gee, that's descriptive, little brother. How?"

"I told you. It's easy when you've designed the place."

He knew his brother was an architect, but that still didn't fill in all the blanks for Damon.

"Just gonna waltz into the Warden's office and grab the blueprints?"

"I've already got them."

Damon went quiet for a moment. Did his brother already manage to grab them? He had been up to a lot since he got here, and he was intelligent—there was no doubting that.

"How?"

"They came here with me. I've got them on me."

Damon froze, looking over at his brother's new set of ink with another purpose. "Am I supposed to be seeing something here?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow as he looked at all the different designs and phrases.

"Look closely."

He didn't understand most of it, but the closer he looked, the more pieces that Damon could start to pull out.

It was a map.

His little brother had tattooed the whole damn map on his body.

"Well—that changes things."

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm really sorry for the delay on this. I sort of lost my juice that I initially had, and then I was a little caught up with roleplay and working on finding a job. After some people asking into it, you now have an update! This one was close to 1,000 more words than the last couple ones were, so I hope that helps make up for it a bit c: And I promise that I'll try to get the next update _a lot_ quicker than this update was~**

**My Tumblr URL has changed, so if you have any questions, you can track me down at 'summersbuff' on tumblr c:**

**As always, a review helps me know what you guys are thinking, and they'll probably even motivate me to get working on the next chapter sooner rather than later! **


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